MAYAH

When my step-daughter brought us a puppy for her dad, I had such mixed feelings. I had hoped to select the perfect dog by myself. I have really strict standards about dogs. I don't really even like dogs that much. They smell, they eat disgusting things, they get into the trash, they chew on your stuff, they bark, they jump on you, they get on the furniture, they basically are a nuisance. But I was assured that some consideration as to this dog's temperament had been taken into account and that she was a good match. I knew that with Bill traveling for work that in essence this would be my dog. And against my better judgement I agreed to let her stay.

It was difficult to have a puppy that kept me awake, especially since menopause was also depriving me of sleep. I have one awful memory of getting up in the middle of the night when she woke me and banging on her crate and screaming at her to let me get some sleep. Not my best moment. Still, she really wasn't much of a barker. I always figured she'd be useless if someone broke in as she would just wag her tail and beg for a pat. She loved people and always went in for attention. "Just love me" was her basic plan.

When we moved to SC, we built a fence around the yard and it was her realm. She was a fetcher, loved sticks and would love to run for them, pick them up and bring them back only to sit down with them and chew away. We bought large balls for her to chase around the yard and she would knock them up and down the hill until she finally was able to get a grip and pop them. Lots of popped balls. Her loosing interest in these activities was the first real indication that she was either getting old or failing health-wise.

She seemed to be arthritic, her back legs got stiff easily and after a while gave out on her. Turns out her spine was deteriorating and she just didn't have any strength left to stand up easily. For a while some medication seemed to help, but finally she just couldn't manage. The sedentary life wasn't good for her, and fluid started filling her lungs. Finally she started just shutting down.

Today I took a sick day because I have a sinus infection that has migrated to my chest. I meant to just rest all day, and instead of getting into bed upstairs, I brought a blanket down and set up in the Living Room to be with her. But after a while of her struggling to breath I realised that she needed to be taken to the vet, that maybe it was Time. Bill had spent time with her before he left on Sunday, so he knew that time was short for her. The vet confirmed that she was shutting down. At this point she didn't even seem to be aware of her surroundings, she just was tired. Tired of trying, I guess. She hadn't eaten for a few days, though I tried to coax her. She just wanted to go. So we let her.

I never ever ever thought I would be so upset, after all, I am not a dog person. But Mayah has been my constant companion these years while Bill has been away. She was the only one around when I had my 50th birthday, the only one around for almost any event these last eight years for which I would have been entirely alone.

The people who originally rescued her and had her before me had named her Daisy. Despite thinking Mayah better described how I felt about having her (Just an Illusion), she always struck me as a Daisy.

And yes, since she was a dog, she did smell, she did eat disgusting things, but she never got into the trash, never chewed on my stuff, rarely barked, learned not to jump on people, never ever got on the furniture, and basically was not at all a nuisance.

I can't believe how much I already miss you Mayah.